


Brand New Yesterday

by SisterWine



Category: X-Men (AU), X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-09
Updated: 2015-08-09
Packaged: 2018-04-13 19:05:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4533660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SisterWine/pseuds/SisterWine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Disclaimer: The X-Men and likenesses belong to Marvel Comics and 20th Century Fox. I make no money from this as I am merely doing it for entertainment. Renot, Irivan, and the other characters in the story belong to ME. Don't even think about pawning them off as your own.<br/>Summary: After a horrible turn of events, Logan gets his own magical story in history.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Part Une

 

It had taken Logan a long while to get over him, even after he had been discharged from the med-lab. It had been a week since Renot and Logan had a terrible and unforgettable parting of ways. Logan relived it every time he closed his eyes. "NO!" Each scream sounded more and more agonising. Hands reached out for the young auburn haired man as they both fell into the fiery pit below them. Sweat poured off of Logan's face and his chest heaved with forced breaths.

Logan held onto his lover's hand until the hand and the body attached disintegrated away, leaving only a smoldering Logan to scream and force back tears. After that, nothing was found of the young man that had fallen beside Logan. Logan lay alone in tatters of clothing and pieces of broken heart. Most of his skin had been singed away, leaving only his metal skeleton in the majority of his body.

Jean and Scott had found him, lying in a twisted position, shaking with lips uttering words that had no sound. Carefully, they collected him and brought him back to the mansion, only to wait for several days on word of his condition. Both were given orders to keep everyone from seeing Logan's condition, all except Xavier.

"What if he doesn't make it?" The question on everyone's lips was voiced by a worried Jubilee.

Storm took the young Asian in her arms and held her close. "Logan will pull through, child."

For days and in different shifts, the whole team had gathered outside of the locked room, inside the med-lab, to hear or see some sort of spark about Logan's progress. Rogue sat curled next to the door with her arms wrapped around her drawn up legs, while Storm paced and Jubilee chewed her left thumbnail. Jean had retired to the library and Scott resigned to having a basketball match with a few kids, upstairs. All kept their minds focused on their teammate.

Screams of ungodly pain and anguish echoed throughout the entire bottom level. Logan was awake and had been awake for sometime but it wasn't until he had tried to move and stand up that the pain and remembrance hit him the hardest.

"Please Logan, you must lay down and rest. You are not fully healed from your injuries." Xavier, who had stayed with him through the days and nights, spoke softly and as gently as he could. Flinching as Logan howled in pain again, Xavier had had enough of being ignored and put a stop to Logan's movement, forcing him to lie back down on the padded bed.

Logan struggled to speak, voice hoarse from screaming and injury. "Let me go. I have to find him."

"Renot is not to be found, Logan. Though your body is equipped to heal and regenerate, his was not. I am sorry, Logan. I can assure you, he was gone before his body--"

"Shut up."

Charles paused and stepped back. He hadn't needed his wheelchair in a good long year, and he had enjoyed putting his legs to good use. Xavier and Renot had often walked within the confines of the courtyard, talking about the future, and the past. He smiled as their last conversation had been that of how to ask Logan to marry Renot. "I apologise."

Logan stared up at the ceiling and asked in a flat voice, "when can I go back to our room?" He stayed on his back and hadn't bothered to move, even after Charles released his mental hold on the Canadian.

"You have started to regrow your skin cells. I suppose within a few days, you will be perfectly restored and mostly healed. For now, rest. I will be back in to check on you and bring you food." Charles turned and sighed, not looking back at Logan. It was heartbreaking to see a good friend have the new-found love of his life be ripped from his grasp as quickly as it was. Slipping out of the room, he explained to the worried team members about their comrade.

~~~~

Several days later, Logan was more than eager to get upstairs and into his own hard, cold bed. He had fully regenerated his skin and only a few joints ached when he moved.

Charles had seen fit to release him from his medical bindings in the lab, and let Jean and Storm escort Logan upstairs.

"Logan, we have all agreed to set up a monument in honour of Renot. The ceremony is this evening, if you are up to it." Storm cradled Logan's left arm over her right and patted his hand gently as they walked.

Not answering but counting footsteps up to the door, Logan thought about what was said. "Just get me to my door, Ro."

"Logan, we understand what you have been through. Ren-" Storm paused as Logan stopped and looked at her, daring her to finish the name. "He was a good friend of ours, as well. He will be dearly missed."

Jean held his right arm and glanced over at him, every few minutes. She could tell he was hurting both inside and out, so she didn't push the conversation. Searching his brain for whatever torment his expression admitted, she found herself rudely shut out. "Perhaps, you'll feel better tomorrow?"

"Yea, perhaps." Shrugging off both women, Logan continued down the hall to his door and growled as his hands were not able to turn the knob on their own. Grunting a "thanks" to Jean's mental help, he went in and slammed the door shut to wallow in his remorse. Inside, he punched at the walls and tore apart the bed only to sink down to the floor in a fit of tearless cries and curses.

Curling up on the hard, wooden floor with only his pillow and soft wool blanket, Logan found himself dozing as he stared out at the pinkish orange sunset. Rolling onto his back, Logan grunted and turned his head away from the window. Keeping his eyes closed and voicing his little movements in soft vowels, Logan began to see himself relive the last few moments of Renot's life. "No, no. RENOT!" He sat straight up and stared at the complete darkness.

Something inside him wanted his lover to be there, wrapping his arms around Logan and hushing him back to bed. After looking about himself, Logan came to see the reality of things. He was on the floor of his disheveled room, clutching his blanket in one hand and his pillow in the other, and his lover was nowhere in sight.

He paced back and forth in his room, not bothering to clean up, before going back to his spot on the floor. Sleep didn't come easy for him, so he lay there and stared up at the white ceiling for the rest of the night. The face of his lover ran through his mind, jumping the hurdles of love and joy and lodging itself firmly into the cement of horror. "Renot" was constantly being mouthed as he dozed. No matter if his eyes were open or closed, Logan saw the fate of his terrible lover as if it were the proverbial carrot before the mule.

With his breath cut short, and his brow forever glistening with sweat, Logan found himself tossing and turning the rest of the night away. His only moment of satisfaction was seeing the faint gleam of light from the forthcoming sunrise. He had survived the long night without killing himself from grief. His one regret was that of having the image of his terrible lover being firmly cemented in horror.

~~~~

Days later when Logan had become tired of being kept inside, he decided to venture into town and get some air. Passing an estate sale, Logan stopped and admired the wares from the gate at the end of the circular driveway. Letting a dresser catch his eye, he wandered up to it and found himself staring at it. An elegant white dressing table with a rounded square mirror stood in the middle of the collection.

"Very nice piece, isn't it?" A young looking woman with an auburn streak in the middle of her long silver hair, came over to tell Logan about the piece.

"Yea. Very nice."

The woman smiled and ran a hand over the polished top. "My father owned many nice things but this piece, belonged to his employer. It was a gift from a childhood friend and father just couldn't part with it. It is over eighty-five years old. I hate to sell it but, I need the money to pay for my father's funeral. It is one of the oldest pieces in the collection."

Logan's eyes widened as he watched a young couple and their snotty, little girl stroll over to admire the furniture. He paid special attention to the child who kept an eerie grin on the shiny panels of the dresser while armed with a barely together Daphney Diapers doll and a green crayon. Before the child and her parents came too close, Logan found himself blurting out, "I'll take it."

Smiling and nodding, the woman glanced back at the piece and added, "good. Will this be cash or card?"

"Cash."

Again a nod. Leading him over to the picnic table she had used as a cashier table, she gave him the rest of the details about the furniture she had sold him. "It comes with a key. You might want to lock all the drawers before you go to bed, at night. And if the mirror breaks, make sure the drawers are locked before you clean up the glass. My father was always a stickler for tidiness." She wasn't much taller than Logan but tall enough to notice the same look in Logan's eyes that her father held whenever he looked at the dresser; utter sadness.

Logan turned back to stare at the dresser once more.

"If you like, I will place it back in the garage until you can bring a vehicle here to retrieve it." The woman handed him his change from ninety dollars, and half-smiled at the sale of a dear piece she had come to understand.

Turning to face her once more, a thought came into Logan's head. "How long will you be out here, today?"

Glancing at her watch, the woman thought and summed, "until six. I will tuck it away and when you come back, I will have my son, Yasha, help you move it into your vehicle."

"Sounds good. Thank you." Slipping the change in his left pants pocket, Logan strolled down to the gate and paused as he watched Yasha carefully load the dresser onto a dollie and roll it back into the garage. Lighting a cigar that he had been carrying for most of the morning, he was rather pleased at himself for buying something that had reminded him nothing of the atrocities from weeks prior.


	2. Chapter 2

Yasha wiped his forehead with the back of his right hand as they had finished securing the dresser and mirror into the back of Renot's old Ford pickup truck. Draping the blankets over the pieces, he sat down on the tailgate of the truck and sighed. "I won't be sorry to see this piece go." His thick Louisiana accent brought out the rich hatred for the dresser. Rusty hair fell into his eyes and hung off his shoulders, trapping the red bandana that rested around his head. The blue T-shirt was soaked with sweat and his jeans were dusty and worn in spots. The man of forty-five looked back at Logan as he glanced down at his purchase. "Why you buy this piece, eh?"

Logan shrugged and turned to face the man on the tailgate. "Spose it just caught my eye as somethin that needed a home, away from a six year old maniac with a green crayon."

Both men laughed at the thought of the child who had big ideas for the clean panels of the dresser, Logan came to join him on the tailgate. Yasha held up a shielding hand as he looked up at the sun and then to his mother who brought out two glasses of cold, sweet tea. Taking one and handing it to Logan before taking his and taking a well-wanted sip, Yasha eyed the man next to him with a weary knowledge of what the wooden structure could do.

Angelique handed Logan the key to the dresser and managed a smile as she looked past both men to the dresser. A small black key with a round clover design on the end. It was somewhat antique looking but still in very good condition so much that it looked brand new. "I will miss this piece but I think you'll take better care of it than we ever could." She looked almost sad as her eyes rested on the dresser that was half-showing under the cloth Logan draped over it. Her long silver hair had been tied back into a long braid, leaving the streak of auburn to hang loose but tucked behind her left ear. She had changed clothes to wear a grey sweatshirt and sweatpants as the evening had cooled considerably. Looking back to Logan, she could recognise the look of loss and pain on his face and in his eyes as the same look she had worn in several mirrors since her father died. "This dresser remind you of someone? Someone important to you, no?"

Logan looked over his shoulder at the furniture and shrugged. "A-- friend of mine. He died a few weeks ago. This old thing," patting the spot on the tailgate beside him, "was his too." The sadness choked him as the pain of the previous events with Renot came flooding back.

"Desole, Logan. I'm sorry. You knew him a long time, huh?" Yasha looked over at the man and could tell that the fact he had shared was not a half-hearted one.

Nodding, Logan let his eyes filter to the ground in front of Angelique. He had just met these people yet, he felt like he knew them from somewhere. "Yea, we more or less worked together. Known him about ten years. He was from the south, or so I've gathered. He hadn't really known his family, though." Logan could tell the conversation would start to stir up feelings he wasn't ready to show in public so, he hopped down off of the tailgate and finished his tea before handing the glass back to Angelique. "Thank you." Tucking the key into a shirt pocket, he watched as Yasha slid off and closed the tailgate. Logan offered a hand to both mother and son for the help and hospitality before turning to walk to the driver's seat.

Angelique came to stand at the door and lean on the open window to tell Logan one last piece of advice. "You know, Logan, this dresser can show you a world your dreams lead you to. Until you're ready to see it, you keep those doors locked, no? It can show you happiness again." She winked as she backed away from the truck and watched him wave a hand as he pulled out of the drive. Placing an arm around Yasha's shoulders, she hugged her son and continued to watch the truck's taillights fade into the distance.

"Ya think he ever find out what you mean?"

Angelique smiled. "I think he will."

~~~~

"Hey, boyscout! Help me with this thing, will ya." Slamming the door to the truck closed, Logan walked back to the tailgate and lowered it as the skinny X-Men leader walked over to him. Logan had parked the truck in front of the mansion's steps and called to the first person he saw.

Scott stopped at the tailgate and watched Logan hop up beside the covered piece and turn back to him. "What did you buy, Logan?" He had just returned from the garage and was heading inside to get some late dinner when Logan had stopped him. He was dirty from changing oil and puttering around in the engine, checking hoses and water levels. His jaw dropped as Logan uncovered the dresser and tossed the cloth at him. "Where did you get this?"

Walking to the other end of the dresser, Logan nudged it to the edge with his legs. "Picked it up at a garage sale."

"Why?"

"Caught my interest." Logan wasn't about to share the details of the sale but, just wanted to get the dresser upstairs before the clouds above let loose the rain they held back. "Just help me get it inside, will ya?" He came back around and jumped off the tailgate before sliding the piece around to get hold of it. Waiting for Scott to get his hold on the corners, they slid the heavy dresser off of the tailgate and then lowered it to the ground.

A slow process of carrying it up the flights of stairs that seemed endless but, they managed to do it with only the whole mansion watching them do it. Most were in awe of the elegant piece while the rest were imprinting the image of Scott and Logan working together into their brains. Finally making to Logan's room, he had already designated a spot to place the dresser. They moved it to the end of the bed, against the wall and facing the bed.

"Great. Now the mirror." Logan sighed as he stood back to admire how nicely the dresser fit in with his room furniture.

Scott's stomach growled loudly but he reluctantly decided to help bring the heavy mirror up and attach it to the dresser before calling it quits for dinner. Following Logan out of the room and down the stairs, his mind toyed with the thought of why Logan had bought the dresser in the first place. Though he was skeptical, once they had gotten it put together, he could see why Logan was attracted to it. "Beautiful piece, Logan. Any particular reason why you bought it?" He stood back and admired it as Logan finished up tightening the screws that held the mirror to the dresser.

"Nope."

Scott nodded as he wasn't going to get much more out of the gruff 35 year old that didn't want to be shared. "Fine then. How 'bout I buy you dinner?" Adjusting his shades as he placed an arm around Logan's shoulders, they headed back downstairs and into the kitchen for something to eat.

~~~~

In bed by 9:30, Logan was exhausted and tired of hearing about why he had to have the dresser. Taking one last look at the dresser and then staring at the small black key in his hand, Logan scoffed and shook his head as he tossed it onto the bedside table and scooted down for sleep. A yawn as he drew up the covers and rolled over to face the table and stare at the key before closing his eyes and letting sleep take over.

An hour later, Logan found himself awake and staring at the ceiling. Angelique's words ran through his head like a broken record. Remember to lock all the drawers in the dresser before you go to bed at night. He huffed and rolled over onto his left side. A short time later, he was awakened again by the same words. Shoving off the covers, Logan sat up and stared pointedly at the dresser. Grabbing the key from the table, he pushed himself off of the bed and stomped over to the dresser.

Sighing and nudging at the drawers with his free hand, Logan held out his other hand and stared at the key a moment. "Since they didn't come open on the way here and up the stairs, I spose it can wait 'til tomorrow. Right now, let's get some sleep, Michel." He stood and paused as he stared at the empty bed and took a sharp hiss at the mention of Renot's first name. "Michel." The word was almost a whisper but loud enough for him to jump at the noise.

Logan sighed again as he made his way back over to his side of the bed and sat down on the edge. Swallowing and laying back down so that he lay on his back, Logan blinked up at the ceiling and clenched his fist tighter around the key he still held in his hand. His free hand reached out and caressed the empty spot in his bed that had been Renot's. Sleep took him as he rolled over to face Renot's side of the bed and hold the key close to him. A small exhale as his eyes slid closed for the final time before Logan slept with Angelique's final words now haunting him.

"It can show you happiness again."

"....can show you happiness again."

"Happiness."

"Again....again....again....."

The world around Logan became smaller and smaller until he was lying in the middle of a giant black hole. As quickly as he lie in the blackness, he was suddenly filled with the scent of fresh cut grass and the sweet perfume of Spring flowers. He inhaled long and deep and rolled back over onto his back. Arms outstretched and fingers idly sifting through the short grass, his mind told him it was all still a dream. Another inhale and exhale as his mouth called for the young man in his every dream, Renot. He was so sure it was a dream that he was oblivious to the man staring down at him with a confused look on his face.

"Seemin' ta me, Monsieur Renot keeps pretty screwy company. Better get de boss on dis one." The old gardener removed his straw cowboy hat and scratched his head before replacing the hat and shaking his head as he went back up to the manor house to disturb the boss' morning coffee. He had only been with Remy for a few short years but hadn't seen so much as a confusing piece as a man lying sound asleep on the front lawn. He dreaded disturbing the boss during any meal or activity but this was simply awkward and hadn't remembered any guests looking like him from the evening before's party. The man stopped at the first step and removed his hat, fiddling with the brim as he swallowed nervously and spoke up about the man in the yard. "Uh, boss.....?"

 

Continued.


	3. Chapter 3

Logan was awoke to the sound of someone moving about his room. He opened his eyes to him laying flat on his back, on material that felt considerably cooler and softer than his own bed linens. Sitting up, he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes before looking around strange surroundings. "What the...? Where the Hell am I?" Shaking his head a bit as if to clear it, Logan stared over to his left at the young maid who stood by the window. "You, where am I?" When no reply came, Logan slid off of the bed from the right side and started after her.

The young maid in a long, white cotton outfit hurried out of the room and past her employer, just outside of the door. She bowed quickly to the tall, handsome boss and then hurried down to the kitchen for the noon meal. She had been watching Logan sleep for nearly an hour while slowly going through her chores in the freshly made up room for the unexpected guest. The man slept pleasantly and whispered a name over and over in his sleep.

Standing in the doorway, the young man blocked the way for the maid to get away cleanly while he had a chat with the stranger from the lawn. "Afternoon, monsiuer. Interestin' night you've had... eh?" He was taller than Logan and had longer, auburn hair that had been pulled back into a ponytail, but somewhat resembled Renot. The red on black eyes stared calmly at the guest and watched with cat-like grace as the man walked around his room. Slipping his hands into his pants pockets, the young owner stepped into the room and over to the bed. "I trust de bed was comfortable for you?"

Logan turned back from staring out the window and watched the young man deeply before busying himself with small trinkets left out in the opens of the dressertops and sills and ledge of the room. "Who the Hell are you and how did I get here?"

"Je m'appelle Remy LeBeau. I own dis 'place'." Placing a hand on his chest as he introduced himself, Remy smiled shortly at Logan's bewilderment. "You don't know where you are?"

The name didn't mean much to Logan but then again, he was too busy looking around the room and outside that he hadn't really noticed his young host. "Name's Logan, and if I knew where I was, I wouldn't be askin you."

Remy laughed to himself thinking the small joke was very smart. "Good point. You hungry?" Remy thought he would switch gears and invite his guest on a tour of his new surroundings. "Come, I take you around de house, non?"

Logan came to a stop at the window and stared out at the greyish afternoon that blanketed the rich, green grass of the backyard. He was hungry but unsure of what could be in the food. His healing factor would prevent anything from killing him, but he wasn't entirely immune to something making him ill. He nodded and turned around to give the host another glance.

~~~~

".....and, de kitchen. Nice an' big, and perfect for sniffin somethin' yummy in de mealtimes. Dis is Luma, she's de best damn cook in N'awlins." Remy placed a calm hand on the small of her back and kissed the woman's cool cheek. Reaching to the salad bowl, beside the stove where they stood, Remy snagged a baby tomato from the salad and popped it into his mouth, smiling as he bit down.

The shapely woman turned around and tapped a dark finger to his lips, "You do dat again, I'm comin in after, ya heah?" Luma stopped her stirring of the big pot of gumbo and reached for two bowls from the cupboard to the right. She glanced over her shoulder at Logan and then back to Remy, who was still popping baby tomatoes into his mouth. "Ain't you got somethin to do, chile?" Her black hair had been pulled back into a tight braided bun that sat high on the back of her head. The gray in her dress accented the dark bronze of her skin, and her sharp brown eyes seemed to force the humanity to the front of a person. She stood just an inch shorter than Remy but proved to be his equal as she had been with the family since Remy was small.

Remy stopped his chewing and gave her a sullen nod before turning to Logan and returning the smile, "Sit, have lunch, an' I'll be back in a bit." He took a deep sigh and turned to leave, after taking a bowl of gumbo from Luma. Patting his left pants pocket with his free hand, he gave one last nonchalant smile to his guest, and then hurried back up the shallow hallway steps, to the far left of the stove.

Logan looked around the huge, antique looking kitchen, and let his mind take in the scents and sights. He sat down in a wooden chair, at the table that sat off to the right, next to the window, and looked out at the backyard. "What the Hell kinda dresser am I dealin' with here?" Logan's mumble caught the ears of the cook, and he caught her eye as she set the bowl of gumbo down in front of him. "Just so I can keep my marbles straight, what is it that the kid does around here?"

A low laugh before Luma spoke next. "Day boy is de quickest runner in de state of Louisiana. Iffin if weren't fer Capone, I reckon Detective Ness be comin for him. You just make sure, you's on de right side of Remy. He don't take no prisoners." She winked and turned back to her chores in the kitchen, leaving Logan to wonder what she meant by her request.

"Runner, huh? Capone.... Ness...." Logan mulled over the possibilities in his head. He wondered how a dresser could take him from Xavier's mansion to Louisiana in what.... the 1920s? 1930s? How would he be able to get back to where he belonged, if things did go bad? And, where did his host go with no explanation, or time to return? "He owns this house?"

Luma glanced back from the washing bin, and the small pile of dirty dishes. "Remy bought dis house from his poppa, who is livin in Paris. I seen dat boy scrape an' claw his way outta scrap 'er two, just ta survive. He come a long way, and deserves it. Good kid. Teachin me an' my family to read and write, and talk better. Schools 'round here won't take us, so Remy's teachin us. Answer your question?" She hadn't stopped her chores, only tossed her reply over her left shoulder while smiling at the one decent soul in a time where Remy would have been lynched for helping them.

"Yea." Logan nodded and took a bite of his gumbo, thinking about what she told him about his host.

~~~~~

"No, Remy. I don't want to do dis. Too tired." The little girl's voice was weak and strained in a pleading manner.

Remy answered in a calm and weathered tone, "I know, but you'll feel better afterwards. C'mon petite, let me do dis, den you can rest, okay?"

The little girl pulled back and disagreed, exhausting herself with her struggles. "Non. Don't want to. We can skip today, oui?"

"No." Remy was getting tired of playing the same game, day after day. He hated playing the scene like a broken record that he usually won, as she was growing more and more weak and tired from fighting him. Closing his eyes, he shook his head.

"It hurts. Don't want to, not gonna."

Remy sighed and convinced her that if she did it, and got through it, that he would take her outside in the evening. When she agreed, and he finished his task, he blew her a kiss, and told her he loved as he thanked her for being so good but she needed to rest now. "You'll feel better soon. Take a nap, petite. I'll be back"

She sniffled and gasped for air as it became harder to breathe after exerting herself in the struggle. "Want to feel better, now." A coughing fit before staring at him, again.

"I know, petite. I know. Rest." Remy smiled and removed himself from the dark room.

Logan stood outside and listened to the whole conversation with several scenarios playing through his head. As soon as Remy stepped out of the room, and into the hallway while closing the door behind him, Logan placed himself in front of him. "You playin' with innocent kids, too?" A sniff told him that Remy was aroused by turning to see his houseguest before him.

"What?" Remy seemed genuinely shocked at the accusation.

Logan growled, "don't lie to me, I can smell it on ya. I heard you con her into somethin'. You can have anything you want, but you'd rather take apart an innocent little child?" His anger boiled and it seemed to only excite the young cajun more.

Remy was thoroughly confused. "You don't understand."

"The Hell I don't." Punching the Cajun's jaw, Logan pushed past him, knocking Remy into the wall, and burst into the room. The initial smell had escaped him. In his long life, he hadn't come to terms with that particular scent, eventhough he had smelled it on numerous people.

Rubbing his left jaw, Remy stood in the doorway as Logan stepped forward, into the room. "Tuberculosis." He looked at the small face that stared, horrified, at Logan. "She's my sister, and I was connin' her to take her meds. Her name's Claudia."

Logan's jaw dropped as the weak, little body that lay in the bed, shook in fear of what the stranger before might do. He was speechless. All he could do was stare back at the tiny, frail angel encased in plastic. "I'm- I'm sorry."

"Remy?" Claudia coughed and turned to look at her brother for help.

"Shh, s'okay petite. Dis is Logan." Remy stepped into the room and up to the bed, slipping a hand under the plastic, letting their hands touch. "He won't hurt you, cherie."

Claudia swallowed nervously, and went back to watching Logan. Her brown eyes focused sharply on the new figure that stood in her room, opening wide as he came closer to her bed. The auburn tresses of hair had lost their curls but spilled over the fresh white linen like satin. "You like my brother, monsieur?" She tried to size the man up but couldn't read the man's expression from her eakened state. Thin limbs continued to shake at the cool air that came through the door, and her eyes hadn't adjusted to the daylight that spilled in from her doorway. Remy had kept her room dark, as she was plagued with headaches after coughing fits.

Logan wasn't sure what she meant but, the question was innocent enough. "Uh, yea. I like your brother." Clearing his throat, and switching gears, Logan inched forward and asked, "how old are ya, darlin?"

"Ten," Claudia smiled brightly. "You stayin here long, monsieur?"

The two men exchanged glances for a moment. Logan was unsure of what to say, having just decked his host after accusing him of being a liar and a pedophile.

Remy had other answers to the question. Patting her hand under his, he whispered, "I think it's time for you to rest, petite." Remy smiled down at her, and then motioned for Logan to leave the room before she could protest. "Night, petite."

"Night Remy." She coughed again, and called to Logan who stood in the doorway, "night, monsieur Logan!"

Logan smiled back at her, "night darlin."

Closing the door behind him, Remy waited until he was a few steps away from her room before explaining. "Dere's a hospital dat just opened up, a few years ago, in Kentucky. Wanted to send her dere, but it was already too full. Had a nurse for her but, she quit after she fell dawn de stairs by accident." He paced himself beside Logan as they walked down the hall to the stairs. His hands slipped into his pants pockets, and his stride eased more and more with every step.

Logan paused to look back at the child's door. "How long has she had it?"

"A year. Been keepin it under control for about dat long. But, lately, she's been gettin worse." Remy stopped and shrugged as he sighed deeply in buried emotions. A truck engine and a loud honk of the horn caught their attention. "Ah, I have to do some work. My house is your house. Dere's a pool around back, you can cool off wit'." Eyeing the man's stature, Remy smiled to himself about what Logan might look like sopping wet, and with less clothes on than he had. "Scuse moi, I'm needed for a bit." He hurried down te hall and down the stairs to rush out front and yell at the driver who continued honking the horn in a strange pattern that resembled Logan's alarm clock.

 

Continued.


End file.
